


New Integral

by AllumetteRouge (RedRaidingHood)



Series: What's my age again? [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, He's fourteen, What-If, de-aged!Jason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRaidingHood/pseuds/AllumetteRouge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A divergent version to the end of  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5729533/chapters/13202365">New Alphabet</a>. What if Jason had decided to stay fourteen? This time, he will meet Damian and Babs and, of course, get Tim into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to you all being so supportive with New Alphabet, here's the what-if version. Here's Jason staying young, the kind of story I had planned to write in the beginning! <3

Tim slammed the car door only moments after the wheels stopped turning. He didn’t look back, already unfastening his cape on the way to the showers. The meeting tomorrow was excuse enough to get off patrol for the rest of the night; not that there was much time left. 

Robin would be coming in in the next hour, and even Dick and Bruce would return in time for sunrise. Just enough time to stick his head under the water and cool off. He washed up quickly, slipping into a pair of boxers and his sleep shirt before heading to the computer to write up his report.

When he saw the chair in front of the screens already occupied, he rubbed the towel over his hair once again, paying attention to what Jason was looking up. Bile rose in his throat.

He must have made a noise, as the kid jerked, turning to look at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “It’s not what you think,” Jason sputtered.

“And what exactly do I think this is?” Tim pulled at the ends of the towel around his shoulders. The kid was looking at him, staring and clawing at the arms of the chair, but Tim kept his eyes glued to the screens.

Red Hood. Of course, Jason would find out sooner or later. The computers were younger than him and Jason shouldn’t have known the passcodes, but the adult Jason had no problem hacking into a simple report. The adult Jason had skills this teenager could dip into because this was Jason how he wanted to be. Skilled, happy and loved.

“I thought it was you,” Jason breathed, unable to look him in the eye.

“The guns.” Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want the kid to explain, didn’t want him to know.  
The Red Hood. Could he bear it? Could he bear the truth or would this hurt Jason? He was a child, really. Just fourteen years old, just one year before he had died.

Jason pulled his legs up on the chair, hugging them close. “Yes,” he admitted. “The guns. But they’re not yours. Those clothes… They’re too big for you. So I looked it up.”

“How?”

The kid glared at him from the corner of his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I was looking for someone you would hide guns for.”

“I didn’t exactly hide them.”

“You didn’t have to.” He sighed, unfolding and swivelling the chair around. “Were we close?”

Tim took a step when he heard the slight tremor in the kid’s voice. Another when Jason’s eyes found his, pleading with him to deny it all. To tell him this was just a stupid dream and the files on the screen didn’t already tell him everything.

“You have to stop me, Tim,” Jason breathed, not getting his voice to fully comply. “You can’t let me become this person.”

Tim jerked to live, pulling the kid off the chair and hugging him to his chest. Jason buried his face in his neck, tightly holding on. “You’re not him. You are not.”

Jason’s speech was muffled and warm against his shirt, coming out tiny and meek. “I’m afraid. The way he’s just… coming apart like that, I – I don’t know what to do, Bruce hates me, doesn’t he?”

Goddammit, where was that big oaf when his son needed him? Tim wanted to punch his partner. In the face. With a brick or two. He knew how much bricks hurt and this was definitely a two-brick situation.

Jason might be Robin now, but he also was still a kid. Heavily reliant on the two persons he had, Alfred and Bruce. And both of them needed to cope with Jason being back themselves - the Jason they had loved and who loved them in return. But they were too swamped with getting their heads around his sudden appearance, to actually take care of the kid. Other than clinging to him and wishing he would never leave.

Tim didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was right, but he knew he had to act, if only because no one else would.

“We found the person who did this to you,” he explained, keeping his arms around the kid. “He told us what happened, why he did it. He also told us that you never asked for this, but that this is what you thought of as the happiest you could be.”

Jason snarled. “Do I look happy to you?”

“Right now? No.” Tim bit his lip, forcing himself to say the next words. “But this evening. And at the mall.” He felt Jason bury his face in his shoulder again, and struggled with himself. He didn’t want to lose that kid. He liked him.

“What did I do?” Jason asked. “Why did he do this to me?”

“Because you helped his friend. Because this is what you regret losing.”

“But I lost it.”

“You’ve read the file.”

Jason hummed. “Is this why the boss is always watching me?”

His grip was tight on Tim’s shirt, not letting him go. It wasn’t like he’d run away, but he had never wanted to talk to Jason about… this. Sighing, Tim closed his eyes for a moment to gather his wits. “What did you read in those files?”

Jason avoided his eyes, burying his face against Tim’s shoulder. “I get it somehow. I… I died. I am dying in a year, ain’t I?”

“No!” Tim pulled him even closer, feeling the kid’s breath being pushed out of him. Jason held onto Tim more tightly in return. 

“No, Jay, no. You won’t. You’re alive now, aren’t you? You would have died then. You did. – We won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

Jason’s speech was warm against his shirt, coming out so unusually tiny and meek. “I’m afraid. The way I’m - He… I-I don’t know what to do.”

God, where was Bruce? Why wasn’t he here instead of Tim?

He glanced at the stairs that led up to the study. Up there in the manor, Alfred would be asleep, trying to squeeze in a few hours before he needed to tend to whatever the night left of them at dawn. 

Neither Alfred nor Bruce was here now, but Tim was, and if there was one thing Tim had learned ever since he took on the mantle, it was how nice a little company could be. 

“You don’t need to know what to do,” he finally said, pushing the kid away a little to look him in the eye. “You’ll know when you’re ready. How do you feel about the Star Wars Marathon in the meantime?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy to write something in this AU again. It's fun writing a young Jason and it's fun making things complicated for Tim. I do hope you'll like this sequel as much as you liked [New Alphabet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5729533/chapters/13202365) and let me know what you think! You can get a hold of me here, on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com), and now even on [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/FelisFreya)!  
> Thank you for reading <3


	2. Chapter 2

Jason had declared it a sacrilege to fall asleep during Star Wars the evening after he had read the Red Hood file. He had talked about nothing but wanting a whole movie with only Han, Rey and Chewie being badass, for the whole week. The second week, Steph had been able to convince the kid it wouldn’t be as much fun if they didn’t add Leia at least. In the end, it had taken him only twenty days to convince Bruce to let him out on patrol again and Tim was sure his partner loved those nights more than he let on. 

As a matter of fact, he mused while watching Jason struggle into Tim’s old red and black Robin costume, this was something that concerned Damian. Not that he was to one wanting to talk to Bruce about that. Or to the brat wonder, to be perfectly honest. Petty revenge certainly biased Tim, but it should be Dick’s task to explain to the boss, why the terror twerp might not be so happy if he gave Robin away like that. 

Smiling to himself, Tim leaned back in his chair. The kid was doing his warm-ups like a pro, moving in and out of stretches like the last few times he had done them on the very same mat beside Bruce.

When the kid had gone to bed after their first patrol, Tim had stayed in the cave. He would never tell anyone how much this affected Bruce. Wouldn’t tell Dick or Alfred or even Jason himself, it had taken him twenty minutes to calm his partner down. Bruce had missed this, they all had, but they were okay now. They were okay.

Whatever had possessed Jason today was beyond Tim, though. For all he knew, Bruce might come down the stairs any minute and join Jay on the mats. Not that it seemed likely. Tim didn’t know and he didn’t care as long as the kid knew what he was doing. He had fought for Robin to be more than Batman’s addendum, so if Bruce was okay with Jason going out as Robin, he should be prepared for Robin doing just that.

“Does B know you’re gearing up?”

“You won’t tell him, right?” Jason cringed and pulled an arm behind his head in a stretch. “He doesn’t let me patrol alone and he doesn’t let me out with anyone else.”

Jason was fourteen, so, of course, Tim could understand and even relate to wanting his independence. Jason should just have outright told Bruce what he was going to do. It worked for Tim. 

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chuckled and turned back to his computer while the kid fastened his belt, the old uniform fitting him well enough until he got his own. 

Maybe it really had been the right choice, letting Jason repeat his teenage years. A do-over for all of them.

When he noticed Tim still paying attention, Jason looked up again, a smile growing on his face while he sauntered over. “Thanks, Tim,” he said, putting a hand on the chair. 

“For not ratting you out? Naa, I wouldn’t. Bruce can be a bit overprotective sometimes, so really, it’s for his own good.”

“Got that right.” Jason nodded. “I’ll be back soon and in one piece and stuff, I promise.”

“Just don’t make me come after you this time. Or at least make sure the girl you’re saving isn’t actually after your wallet.” 

Jason’s happy expression faltered for a moment, his eyes darting down to where Tim had a small scar from the last time the kid went on patrol without Bruce’s permission. “I-I won’t. I mean–”

“I know,” Tim interrupted with a laugh. “I’m just being an ass. Get accustomed to it, it’s the local language once you put on a mask.”

The smile was back, though not as bright as before and Tim cringed internally. Jason was a nice kid. He really was, but he was also pretty sensitive and Tim put his foot in his mouth more often than he liked. 

With a final nod, Jason turned back to where he had parked the bike Bruce had gotten him after their first patrol. After Tim had dragged him to bed and laughed in his face for being such a Dad.

After the kid had left, Tim turned back to his work. The case annoyed him. It was irritating in a way Tim was familiar with; a biker had died, and usually, the Serpents would have retaliated at once. Yet they hadn’t. They grumbled and treated other gangs more harshly, but they stayed under the radar. Which wasn’t their style and Tim didn’t like it. He did like working with Babs, though.

Tim swivelled a little in his chair. Hours had passed since the kid had left and they were no closer to solving this mystery. Closing his eyes against the bright light of the computer screens, Tim rubbed his temples. “So we don’t have anything. Nothing at all.”

_“Looks like it, kiddo,”_ Barbara sighed. The hours of brainstorming and grabbing for leads were taking their toll on her, too. Not getting results frustrated her almost more than him and she was also working on other cases simultaneously. When she told him not to overwork himself two days ago, Tim had laughed at her. 

_“There are any number of reasons why they’re lying low. Maybe they’re turning over a new leaf, maybe they’re after a big score, maybe they just don’t know who to go after. Any way you look at it, without new input, we’re fucked.”_

“We’re fucked,” he agreed. With a sigh, Tim leaned forward, opening his eyes to focus on the map of Gotham he had pulled up on one of the screens. “Fletcher was killed at their bar, right?”

_“If it was murder, yes.”_

“You’re not convinced.”

_“The police report says he died of an overdose, Tim. We are talking about a biker gang. It happens.”_

Frowning, he zoomed in on the bar the Serpents used these days. The screen showed him the place from above, a satellite picture of the house and its surroundings, the street in front, the backyard, and the two buildings crowding the bar between them. Lee Fletcher had died there.

“It’s just a bunch of motorcycle fanatics, Barb.”

_“Yet, they had Batgirl on edge for almost three weeks last month.”_

With a small chuckle, Tim marked the obvious entrances on the picture, keeping an eye out for any cameras he could use to get a better look. “We both know she kicked their ass as soon as finals week was over. They’re lying low since she paid them a last visit and got a bunch of them for possession.” 

Sighing, Babs turned away from the mic. _“If they catch you, you can always dazzle them with your knowledge of engines. They might accept you as one of their own.”_

An alert notified Tim of someone coming down the stairs from the study, but it was no forced entry. In fact, it was Bruce and Alfred, both throwing a bit of a fit in their own ways. Without the cowl disguising his face, Bruce’s frown was obvious. Alfred on the other hand just seemed done; he had dealt with enough Batboys at his age to not freak out when one did something stupid yet again. 

“Tell me he didn’t go out alone.”

“No can do,” Tim smiled lopsidedly at his partner once the two men were close enough. “The brat totally jacked a ride and is looking for something to pay the tooth fairy with, as far as I know.” 

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so smug about it, but Bruce kind of deserved it. They all knew he was smothering Jason ever since the kid had appeared back at the manor. Hell, Tim was still consoling a few of the investors Bruce had bailed on on that day. 

“You saw him leave and didn’t think to stop him.”

“Nothing I could do, B. Last time I checked, our juvenile delinquent just stopped wanting to kill me and I’m not yet ready to make him dislike me. Or make him think I’m an adult.”

_“You know who to talk to if you want to re-live puberty, whiz kid.”_ Babs snorted.

Ducking his head, he avoided Bruce’s frown and got back to work. He didn’t miss the small, fond look his partner got, though. Bruce might be pissed, but he still loved Jason. There was no way the kid would really get in trouble. Or at least not in big trouble. Just very annoying, long and tedious trouble. Like doing some intensive basic cleaning under Alfred’s watchful eye. Knowing Jason, he might even like it.

“Are you planning a stake-out?” Bruce studied the screens, jostling Tim’s chair lightly.

“Obviously.”

“The Serpents own the western building next to the bar. Don’t set up camp there.”

With a soft sigh, Tim turned to look over his shoulder. “You realize I’m working with an information broker who can kick your ass to next Sunday?”

Bruce shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips while Barbara outright laughed. _“Thanks, kid. You’re not half-bad either.”_

 

Tim didn’t stir when he felt the mattress dip under the added weight. From the corner of his eye, he watched while the kid settled cross-legged on the covers. It was dark enough for Tim not to actually see Jason’s features, but his mood was obvious. 

“You’re awfully happy for someone who’s grounded.” Refusing to get up, Tim stuffed the pillow under his head more firmly.

Jason chuckled before pulling his feet closer with his hands. “I’m not grounded, I’m reassigned.”

“’Reassigned’?”

“Jup.”

Tim rolled onto his back, tugging against the covers the kid sat on. “Reassigned to what?” There was little hope it was cleaning duty. Not even Jason liked working with Alfred on the chores this much.

With a happy little sound, the kid let himself fall back, laying down beside Tim. 

“The boss says you’ll take me to a stake-out tomorrow.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only other adult vigilante in the manor and B has a Robin.”

Throwing an arm over his eyes, Tim groaned. There was no way Bruce would just let go of the kid like this. But on the other hand, Tim’s life sucked, so a babysitting gig was probably only the start. He peeked out from under his arm at the kid next to him. Jason was obviously happy with the situation and Tim really couldn’t blame him. Up until now, he had only been allowed to go out with the big, bad Bat, not counting his solo outings. 

“You’re supposed to be my Robin?” Jason couldn’t see the irony in that, of course. Turning back, Tim pulled the pillow with him and over his head. “It’s too early.”

“Fine with me. Can I meet Oracle? The boss says we’re working with her and she sounds awesome.”

The pillow drowned the sound of Jason’s voice to a happy chatter that allowed Tim’s brain to wander, and, for a moment, he was at ease, until realisation hit him like a brick to the face. And he was an expert on bricks. 

“Wait, what the fuck!” Tim threw the pillow across the room, sitting up as fast as his suddenly tense muscles allowed. “You want in on my case?”

Jason nodded, a serious look on his face.

Without another word, Tim was up and out of the room in a flash. He stomped over the carpeted hallway, inhaling even before he had thrown open the door to the master bedroom.

“Bruuuuce.” He didn’t whine. Of course not, even if his voice sounded more like a petulant teenager than he had felt in years. “Bruce, wake up, this isn’t fair.”

The man stared at him for almost a minute before his face relaxed. So maybe it had been a while since any of his children stormed his room early in the morning, but Tim didn’t care. This was Bruce’s fault and he had to remedy that now. This instant. 

“Tim.”

“Yes, that’s my name. Congrats on getting it right. Now tell me I’m not supposed to play babysitter.”

By now, Bruce had gotten over the shock of Tim barging into his bedroom like a child with a nightmare. He smiled smugly like this was payback. And maybe something else, too, but mostly payback. Because whatever Bruce would say next would be the truth. The kind of truth, though, that would disarm whatever anger Tim felt right now.

“You did well the last time,” he said. “And I don’t mean getting ice cream, playing games or watching movies, Tim.”

He couldn’t help crossing his arms, dreading the next words. Of course, Bruce knew. He was Batman.

“You make a good team and he likes you. A lot.”

Tim bit his thumb. Mumbling around the digit, he averted his eyes. “I know.”

“He could learn a lot from you. We both know I would only want to keep him…“ Bruce chuckled mirthlessly. "Safe and not…” 

“You wouldn’t let him learn.” Neither of them dared to look the other in the eye. Not now. “I don’t want a sidekick.”

“He doesn’t need Batman,” Bruce sighed, patting the bed beside him. “He needs you.”

It wasn’t true, not entirely. The kid didn’t need him in particular, not Tim Drake, no. But there was a reason Jason had latched onto him ever since he appeared at the manor and that reason was what Bruce was talking about. Tim was a stranger, someone who Jason hadn’t known before and wasn’t silently comparing to the image he had in mind. There was no younger Tim he knew, not like Alfred or Bruce or Dick. There was nothing he had missed, no change Tim had gone through that Jason didn’t know of. Tim was safe, not a minefield to walk through.

Glaring at Bruce, he took the last few steps and sat down. “I’m not ready for a child.”

“Jason is not a child, he’s a teenager,” Bruce smiled. “Believe me, there’s a difference.”

Tim pulled his legs on the covers nudging Bruce to make more room. He contemplated the situation, he really did, but his stomach was already churning.

There were a few dark spots on the otherwise unblemished stuccoed ceiling. Before his time, even before Jason’s, there had hung another lamp in this room. A smallish chandelier, an old and expensive piece that Martha Wayne had loved - and Dick hadn’t cared for. 

There was a story behind those marks, a reason why Bruce had never let them be painted over, and Tim knew it was a reminder. He had lots of little reminders like that, but Tim didn’t know the story behind half of them. This one, though, Dick had told him soon after they had met. About how Bruce had been injured and Dick had been angry. Angry at himself, for letting it happen.

His brother had channelled his guilt in a way that Tim had grown to dislike. Dick often needed to move, needed to hit something, to hurt and punish himself for not being fast enough or good enough or just for not being there.

“This is something else,” Tim told the dark spots that had witnessed Dick’s helplessness and the destructive force love could be.

When Bruce turned to face him, giving Tim his full attention, he bit his lip. Bruce was not a bad father. He might have raised Dick and Jason with more of a trial-and-error method than strictly needed, but also with more love than other kids got. And that, Tim knew about. 

“Do you remember Dodge?” Because Tim did. Tim remembered the little kid that had wanted to be Robin’s sidekick. And he also remembered what had happened. It had been his fault. Tim’s fault. Another death on his consciousness. “I can’t let that happen again. I won’t.”

“Perfect.” Bruce chuckled, making Tim want to strangle him.

“No, it’s not, I’m not a good partner.” Glaring at the man helped wipe the smile off his face, but Tim wasn’t done. “I don’t even know what you want me to do, he’s already trained. Fuck, he might be able to teach me things he remembers from that ice-cold killer-crash-course Talia got him a scholarship for.”

Bruce sat up, watching him with that stupid look that made Tim feel twelve again; trying and failing to make Batman happy, to fill that hole that just wasn’t Tim-shaped. “Jason’s at the stage where he should decide more and more on his own,” Bruce said. “Please, I just want you to keep him safe.”

And because there might always be a little part of him, that wanted nothing more than to fill that hole, to be as good as the boy from the glass case, Tim knew he would again do the impossible for Batman, when Bruce added, “Son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My kid told me the polka dots on my dress look like stars and I love it <3  
> Tell me what YOU think? You can even talk to me on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you want ;)  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Jason contemplated going after Tim. He even entertained the idea of eavesdropping for a bit, with his arm behind his head and one of Tim’s blankets over his legs. How anyone could sleep in this Gordian knot of blankets was beyond him. At least one of the blankets was from Dick’s old room and from its loved and faded look, Jason was pretty sure Tim bought all the Nightwing paraphernalia he could get his grabby little hands on. 

It irked him. There shouldn’t even be blankets with the black and blue logo. The Bat and his birds were meant to stay in the shadows, be urban myths or some shit. Looking at that stupid blue logo, though, it felt more like next time they would argue, Bruce and Dick would just go right up and fight at Oprah’s. They were meant to be feared, not commercialized, dammit.

Jason jerked, sitting up and looking around for the sudden sound of _Greased Lightning_. His own phone only had those annoying default sounds, so he kept it on vibrate. Not that anyone would actually call him, but it was nice to play Snake with. Tim’s phone, on the other hand, was a piece of art with a special ringtone for everyone. 

Digging the device out from under the covers, Jason let himself fall back against the pillows with a grin on his face.

“Hello?”

_“You’re not Tim.”_

“And you’re calling pretty late.”

There was the kind of apprehensive silence on the other end that Jason only knew from street dogs, estimating their chance against another contester for their dumpster sandwich.

Never one to back down from a fight, Jason edged on. “Or pretty early. Depends on whatcha do at night, I guess.”

“Where’s Tim?” The other finally settled on.

“Dunno. Who’s calling?”

_“Tell him it’s Bart.”_

A picture flashed in his mind, a blurry image too fast for him to get a good look at. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jason only whined a little. It happened so sudden, it felt like someone had knifed his brain.

“Bart who?”

_“Don’t play games. I’m thinking of coming over already.”_

“Holy macaroni, hold your horses, Speedy Gonzales.” Jason laughed. There was something he should be remembering. Something about this Bart, this picture that faded as fast as it had come. “You don’t fuck with the boss’s no-meta rule.”

Bart sputtered, but his voice was more curious than angry after that. _“Who are you anyway?”_

“Wouldn’t you want to know,” he said, sitting up when he heard the footsteps echoing along the hallway. They came from the direction of the master bedroom, two pairs of feet lazily dragging closer accompanied by hushed voices. This usually was the time for Jason to hide. But not today. He grinned when Tim peeked inside the room, giving him a quick little wave. Frowning at the phone Jason cradled against his cheek, Tim stepped closer, already reaching for it. Jason kept the smile on his face, bearing his teeth. 

“I’m Robin.”

It only took Tim half a second to vault on the bed and making a grab for the phone. Throwing his arm up Jason slid a finger over the screen. “You’re on speaker. Say ‘hi’ to Tim.”

Bart let out a small chuckle. _“Hi, Tim.”_

“Hey, Bart.”

Jason bit his lip against the laughter that bubbled up his chest. Shuffling against the headboard, he watched Tim’s shoulders relax and put the phone down between them. It was nice to see Tim like that. After him storming off, Jason almost thought Tim would throw him out, but instead, he just rolled his eyes with that tiny, crooked smile of his. 

_“That a new new Robin?”_

“He’s a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, right.”

Bruce shuffled closer awkwardly, so Jason reached out for him but the man kept his distance. The bed was big, meant for one person, but those rich folks liked their space almost as much as Jason liked sharing such space. It was a habit he would never shake, no matter how warm Bruce kept his rooms, Jason would always prefer to sleep with somebody next to him. Someone he trusted and knew they had his back in case some bum came for their stuff. It hadn’t been an issue for quite some time, but Bruce had never minded when he came to his room late at night. Yet the man hesitated now. 

Groaning, Jason threw his arms up. “You gonna make me come and get you or what?”

“It’s late,” Bruce reasoned.

“Damn right.”

Tim pushed himself up on his arms. His voice a particular mix between amused and annoyed that Jason had heard him use much too often when they talked about Bruce the last weeks. “He means it’s late in the morning. Too late to go back to sleep.”

“It’s never too late to go back to sleep.”

_“That’s what she said.”_

“Oh, hush Bart.”

Bruce gave him a smile. A grimace, really, nothing like the smiles Jason was used to. And as much as it hurt to look at, it seemed to hurt Bruce even more to pull it off. Jason opened his mouth, ready to set the boss’s head straight again when the man locked eyes with Tim.

“You are thinking about taking him to the Titans.”

“I am thinking about it,” Tim agreed.

Jason’s stomach dropped. The Titans. The Tower. Something told him he was not welcome there. The same thing that had made him withhold his name, that told him it was dangerous if Bart knew.

His hand was clammy and cold, but Tim didn’t seem to mind when he took it. The teen sat on his knees, Jason’s hand held tightly and his eyes found his. The way he sat, he was blocking Bruce and Jason didn’t know if that was intentional, but it was okay. 

His heart was beating a mile a minute and he was close to making a run for the bathroom, but Tim didn’t seem angry and that made all the difference somehow.  
“Jason.” His name sounded so sincere and serious in Tim’s mouth. He should be calling him ‘Jay’. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, okay? I won’t sent you away, you can stay here. At home.”

He jerked his head down in a pathetic imitation of a nod. The lump in his throat made swallowing hard, and his eyes pricked with tears he hadn’t known were there. But Tim didn’t scream at him. Tim didn’t hate him for what he’d done, and that was important. Was something big. 

Bruce and Bart kept silent when Jason wanted them to talk. His emotions were all wrong, Tim shouldn’t be the one to apologize. The last time Jason had been at the Tower… he didn’t remember. Something had happened. He’d had fucked up and Tim had felt the brunt of his anger. They should stop him, shouldn’t let him return the hug Tim offered, but they didn’t. Bruce and Bart kept silent.

Jason buried his face in Tim’s shoulder, feeling more than hearing him end the call. It was then that Bruce finally came to them and sat on the bed, rubbing a hand over Jason’s trembling back. It might be too late to go back to sleep, but Jason hoped with all he had that it wasn’t too late to apologize.

 

When he woke, Jason rolled his eyes at the man snoring right next to him in Tim’s bed. Something tugged at his heartstrings; a wistful memory accompanying Bruce’s snoring that Jason couldn’t fully grasp. It was nice, although his head still felt a little light from crying himself to sleep. Someone had gone as far as to tuck him in, pulling the blanket up under his chin, and it had have been Tim because Jason refused to believe anyone else could have unravelled the Gordian-blanket knot. 

He sighed, sitting up. He hadn’t planned this… whatever this had been. Cursing, he nudged Bruce out of the way to get his feet on the ground. Those flashes… he’d had something similar when he’d read that crappy file. But Tim had been there then, too. Tim was a constant, something he could rely on, yet he still felt like it wasn’t fair. Like he had done something bad and Tim should not do this, should not let Jason get this close to him. But he still did, and that felt nice, too. A little like forgiveness.

Smiling over his shoulder at Bruce, Jason stood, following the muffled noises outside the room. A few steps down the hallway, he found Tim on the stairs, his phone cradled to his ear and a frown on his face.

“I swear, I’ll steal the cables from your Wii and hide them where you’d never think to look. - No, not there. I was thinking of Bruce’s bed. Yeah, it so is a thing that exists. He ain’t sleeping in the cave all the time, you know.”

Jason slipped beside Tim, sitting down and pointing towards the phone. “Bart?” he mouthed and got a small nod in return.

The nap had given Jason time; he didn’t need to get back on topic right now and Tim would have calmed down, too. Them being partners… Jason actually looked forward to that. 

Going out with Bruce was cool, seriously, but it was also something he was accustomed to. For him, it had only been a day before everything changed, just a day between the last time he went on patrol with Bruce, and the time everyone around him suddenly grew old. The situation was strange, in what appeared to be the blink of an eye, years had passed and Tim had replaced him. That was the strangest thing, really. 

Looking at the teen, Jason tried to imagine him in the Robin costume, but it didn’t work. Somehow, he just couldn’t reconcile Tim with the scaly panties and pixie boots. Though he sure would’ve rocked that look.

Tim hung up with a frown that spoke of familiarity more than real annoyance. “I have some errands to run,” he said. “I guess you could come with me, now that we’re both awake anyway.”

“B snores.”

“That he does.”

Jason sat up straight, relieved Tim wouldn’t bring up what had happened earlier either. Wiggling his toes, he indulged himself into this moment a little, just happy to be there, to sit with Tim and not being rejected. 

Jason still remembered the awe when he realized Bruce wouldn’t throw him out once he realized what a mess Jason really was. This was something similar. Something big he wasn’t sure he would’ve gotten before… Before Klarion. He had hurt Tim, but he wasn’t that person anymore, right? Or not yet?

With a frown, he turned to ask but found himself unable to form the words. They stuck in his throat, not wanting to lose Tim’s acceptance just yet, he would realize what a mess Jason really was soon enough. “So where are we going?” he asked instead.

Tim grinned. “Oh, you’ll like it.”

 

Cats. Three hairy little creatures that looked at him like the place was theirs. It wasn’t, Tim had told him. It was his. Was Jason’s. 

“Those are mine?”

“Jup,” Tim bit his lip against a smile when the white cat climbed up his arm. “They’re all yours. Don’t ask me where you got them, though, but the terror twerp should know.”

Stroking the fur of the fluffball that had been introduced as Chainsaw, Jason cursed under his breath. “Damian.”

“Yeah.” Tim’s voice was low, just a mere breath as if he had momentarily forgotten the mall disaster. 

Chainsaw nuzzled Jason’s hand, making him pay attention again. She was a demanding cat, and he was pretty sure he fell in love then and there. “What happened to her?”

Letting Salt wrap around his neck, Tim looked up. “To Chainsaw?” He shrugged almost nonchalantly. “She’s a little silly. Fights everything from butterflies to chainsaws. - Or so I’ve been told.” Carefully, he sat down beside Jason on the couch, Salt’s fur tickling his cheeks. “They’re street cats you found, I think. Salt, though, you inherited from an old lady from church.”

Jason snorted, letting Chainsaw gnaw at his finger. “Haven’t been to church much since mom died.”

Tim sighed. He seemed wary, reluctant as if unsure Jason could take the news, just like he had looked when he had caught him reading up on the Red Hood. And fuck that. Jason had had enough bullshit for today. 

“So I have cats and an awesome place all for myself? Fuck, don’t tell me I have my own batmobile?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Dang it.”

They shared a quick smile, turning into laughter when they stupidly grinned at each other for too long. 

“Oh, this is so strange.” Tim wiped a tear from his eye.

“No need to tell me!” Picking Chainsaw up, Jason tried to make her lie on his neck like Salt, but Chainsaw had none of it and only reached for his face with her claws. All of them. 

“Fucker.” Jason put her down, laughing when she hissed and jumped on a shelf, only to throw some bullets down that had gathered dust there. 

He hadn’t known what to make of them at first. Sure, he had known about the Red Hood using guns. He had held them in his own hands not too long ago, but his own place being so different, so obviously unlike the manor… It almost seemed like he had tried to establish his own identity by becoming anything but Bruce. More indulgent in his own life, his own hobbies. More open about not just being a normal person. This whole place was a peculiar mix of domestic and violent and Jason liked it. It was comfortable. Protective. 

When the doorbell rung, both of them jumped. “I’m not getting visitors all that often, do I?”

“I don’t think so,” Tim replied, standing up gracefully. He was at the door in a few strides, his voice a soft murmur that had Jason on his toes until Tim closed the door again with a little chuckle. Curious, Jason followed, only to see Tim smile brighter than he had ever seen, with a bouquet of sunflowers cradled in his arms. He swallowed against the fuzzy feeling in his stomach, against the dry feeling in his mouth, but Tim answered his question before he could find the words. 

“She’s back.” Tim bit his lip, failing to keep his joy from showing. “Cass is back.”

He looked so excited about this Cass-lady. It was obvious he loved her and Jason had to bite back his worry. Tim wouldn’t reject him for her. They were partners now, right? They would go out just like he and Bruce did and they would keep doing all those cool things together, right?

“She sends you flowers to let you know? How does she know where to send them?”

Tim laughed. “It’s Cass!” 

As if that was explanation enough, he went to get a glass from the kitchen. Again, Jason followed like a puppy, snarling at the smug grin Salt gave him from her place on the couch. 

Tim set the flowers on the counter, leaning against it to turn back to Jason. “You’ll love her,” he said and Jason didn’t mention he promised the same about Damian. “It’s wonderful timing actually, Cass being back means she’s at Oracle’s - and we want to meet Oracle for our case anyway.”

Fuck, Jason cursed internally. He was easy. Just mentioning it was _their_ case was enough to make something flutter in his chest. “Don’t tell me.” Jason’s voice caught in his throat and he coughed a little. “I’ll love her, too?”

His smile growing wary again, Tim fumbled with his sleeve. “You do. Or you did, in a way. Oracle and you… You had a special bond.”

A flash of warmth and the air rushing in his face, carrying a girl’s laughter. Jason nodded. A shot, the beeping sound of a heart monitor turning into the noisy countdown of a bomb. His stomach clenched, but he knew something, knew it deep in his bones. 

“I know,” Jason said, meeting Tim’s eyes. “I want to meet her.”

“It might hurt you.”

Jason laughed a little hysteric, showing his teeth. “So what, it’s just Babs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> Let me know what you think? <3  
> ([tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com))


	4. Chapter 4

Tim killed the engine with a mix of happiness and concern. His morale had been low the last days and Bruce’s little surprise hadn’t helped - Cass would, though. Cass would help a lot actually; just seeing her made him usually feel better. There still was the matter of his newest responsibility, though.

“You’re going to be fine?”

Jason grinned and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Honestly? I’m looking forward to this. I know people changed -- I get it. But Babs... She’s cool, you know?”

“Yeah, I... might know someone like that, too.”

It didn’t really help ease his worries, but at least for now, he would not have to deal with the kid throwing a tantrum. If he let himself look forward to meeting his sister now, no one would blame him, right?

They made it to the escalator in record time, both of them wanting to meet the women upstairs badly. It was always nice to know certain codes worked in every Wayne-owned building as Tim habitually stabbed at the combination lock. It was even nicer to know Oracle let them believe those codes were the only thing they needed to get to her.

Although, Tim was certain neither Cass nor Dick actually knew those codes. Those two usually entered through the windows - and Babs let them. Jason on the other hand...

Studying the boy beside him, Tim followed his gaze to the changing numbers that indicated each floor they passed. Babs still had a thing for high places, even if they were no clocktower.

Jason... had he been close with Babs? As he was now, he was certainly eager to see her, but as an adult... they might have shared a deep hatred for a certain criminal. Both being victims of the Joker, both losing too much.

“You’re really okay?”

“I told you,” Jason scolded.

“If something happened between what you remember and now... Would you want me to tell you? Or would you rather find out on your own?”

The kid crossed his arms and cocked his head. “Where’s that coming from? - No, don’t tell me.” Jason sighed. “Something bad happened and you don’t know how to break it to me.”

“You’re pretty insightful.”

“I’m young, not dumb.”

“So, um.” Tim shifted his weight, leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “You know who Oracle is?”

Jason bit his lip, keeping his arms crossed and his gaze on the changing numbers. “Okay, look, I know Babs grew out of the costume--”

“--How?” The moment the word was out of his mouth, Tim regretted it.

Next to him, Jason cringed, swallowing and bending over as if he’d be sick every second. Blinking rapidly, the kid turned to face him. “I don’t know.” He seemed to choke on his words but kept on going. “I just do. Babs was Batgirl and now she’s Oracle and she’s brave and cool and I love her.”

The elevator stopped then and excused Tim from finding a good reply. When Jason stepped into the room before Tim could move, there was nothing left but to follow.

Babs turned in her chair, the lights from the screens illuminating her in a way Tim intrinsically linked to Oracle.

“Glad you could make it, boy wonder.”

“I didn’t really have any other plans--”

“-- And I’m not talking to you,” she said, shaking her head softly. With practiced movements, she wheeled closer, leaning forward in her chair.

Tim bit his lip and dared to look at the kid, dared to notice the small intake of breath as Jason gasped at the sight in front of them. He wouldn’t move.

“Babs?”

“That’s me.”

“But you...”

“It’s okay, she’s doing a whole lot of good like this--” Tim raised his hands but Barbara interrupted swiftly.

“--You don’t speak for me, Tim.”

“Sorry.”

Jason grinned, finally finding his voice. “That’s my girl.”

“Never anyone else.”

Tim stood back, his cheeks burning slightly at his misstep. But the other two didn’t seem to care as the kid stepped closer, allowing Barbara to draw him into a hug. He knew he should leave, let them have this moment, but they came here for a reason -- Which could wait.

Turning, Tim busied himself his phone. Ever since Steph had blown up it up yesterday, with messages about her date and questions what she should wear, he hadn’t heard from her. Which might have to do with him not replying at all. At least that was what Bart had insinuated.

Rubbing his thumb over the cracked screen, Tim considered making up an excuse; he’d been busy with Wayne Enterprises, with Jay and Bruce being difficult and overprotective of his newly-youngest kid. It’d be easy to find something she’d... No, Steph wouldn’t buy it. Steph knew Tim too well.

“Just tell the truth.”

It should have surprised Tim, but it was Cass. Cass suddenly standing beside him felt less threatening than it should have. Instead, Tim couldn’t even suppress the grin that made his cheeks hurt almost instantly. He had to hold himself back not to wrap her up in a hug.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“So am I.” Cass turned to watch Barbara and Jason. “This is nice.”

Rocking a little on the balls of his feet, Tim focused on his phone again. He typed out a few sentences, telling Steph he’d been busy with work and was sorry, but his thumb hovered over the send button before discarding the whole thing when Cass put her arm around his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk?”

Putting the phone away, Tim let himself feel his sister’s warmth for a moment. It was good to have her back.

“About the case, yes.” Steeling himself, he stepped out of her embrace, getting Barbara’s attention. “We were thinking about asking around. Fletcher’s friends might know more about what happened.”

Nodding, Barbara let one of Jason’s hands go to pull up a list on one of her screens. “I’ve sent out Batgirl for a quick recon last night. You’d need to know who to talk to,” she added, misinterpreting Tim’s cringe.

Jason moved with her, kneeling at her side with an arm around her waist. “You’re talking about his ex, right? So why do you even think it’s murder, what’s so strange about this guy?”

“It’s the gang's reaction.” Tim stepped forward. “It’s just too strange.”

“Yet we don’t find any leads other than your hunch,” Barbara argued.

“I’m not wrong. The Serpents were down after Batgirl got to them. It’d be time to either disband or re-establish their position before other gangs swoop in to take their territory.”

Jason pursed his lips, his grip on Barbara tightening when he noticed Cass. “Doesn’t explain why you’re so fixated on that guy.”

Tim sighed. He was glad his sister put a hand on his shoulder, was glad Barbara kept her gaze on the screens, trying to get Steph on the comms. “Lee Fletcher was part of a program I’m responsible for. He had been clean for seven months.”

“So you're taking it too personally.” Jason shrugged, his shoulders moving in jerking motions, that betrayed actual emotion behind his nonchalance. “He relapsed and overdosed. It happens.”

“I’m not wrong.” Tim kept his tone stern, he knew he was right and he knew Jason didn't really mean it. This was the Jason he had seen most often; the man who had gotten aggressive every time he saw Tim. Because hurting Tim was less painful than admitting he was vulnerable himself.

“Batgirl,” Barbara interrupted. “What do you have for us?”

_“I got a few names of those whining losers you wanted. Also, I need to burn my clothes. That bar stinks of booze and cheap cigarettes and I’m not sure even B’s butler would get out that smell.”_

“That’s not Batgirl,” Jason snarled.

_“Excuse me!”_

The kid buried his face in Barbara’s side, addressing the older woman. “You are. You’re the most beautiful Batgirl out there and she’s not you.”

_“But I am Batgirl.”_

“Fight me.”

Babs pet the kid's hair with a smug grin. It must've been nice to be on the protective end of his emotions. “Shush now, Jay. Batgirl, report.”

_“Sheesh. I had a nice evening planned, you know?”_

Tim bit his lip, not wanting to hear whatever Steph was talking about. He already knew about the date and he knew he had let her down, but he would take care of that later. Not now. “You went to the Serpent’s Den to talk about Fletcher.”

_“True. Not the bar I wanted to go to, by the way. And not what I was dressed for, either.”_

“I didn’t ask.”

Cass linked her arm with his, shoving her elbow into his ribs too hard for it to be an accident.

_“Anyway,”_ Steph insisted, finally getting to the point. _“Fletcher was pretty popular. All the guys there knew him, but they were a little peeved about - and now I cite: about how ‘lame’ he’d gotten ever since he got together with his girlfriend.”_

Cass perked up, tightening her grip on Tim’s biceps. They exchanged a glance.

“We had not known about a girlfriend,” she mentioned.

_“Well, that’s because you’re not me. Her name’s Starchild, or at least that’s what Giant Bob told me after the third beer. He was kinda drunk, kept talking about her curves and hair.”_

Whistling, Jason glanced over his shoulder. “Your ex can drink.”

Ignoring him, Tim went through his mental list of Serpent members. There were a few Roberts. Quite a few more Bobs, which was a little annoying, but only a few of them could earn a nickname like ‘Giant’. “You’re talking about Robert Smith or Bob McLean, aren’t you?”

“Are they really small?” Jason shifted to sit more comfortably on the floor.

_“Not every gang has your sophisticated sense of humor. Sadly, we’re not talking about a shortie like Timmers but a literal giant.”_

“So Smith,” Tim concluded, ignoring the snide remark.

_“I guess. He was looking for a date, boyfriend. I think he’d be your type. Want me to get you his number?”_

“As fun as that would be,” Barbara chuckled, “I don’t think that’s necessary. Although I’m sure our resident David’ll want to talk to your Goliath.”

 

Giant Bob was big. Bigger than Bruce. Bigger than both of them if Cass let Tim sit on her shoulders even, so they opted to wait until he went home instead of interrogating him then and there. It just wasn’t intimidating if two tiny vigilantes dropped down on someone this big who was also surrounded by a whole bar full of his biker friends.

“I could take them.”

“I know you could.” Tim smiled fondly. It was good to have her back. “Thing is, I couldn’t and I rather like my body right now. No broken bones or stitches to rip today.”

“It’s sad that counts as a win for you.”

“Gotta take my wins where I can get them.”

Cass stuffed the rest of a donut in her mouth without looking away from the screen. Steph had taken the liberty to install a camera in the Serpent’s Den, making their task of waiting for Giant Bob that much more entertaining.

“That's a good angle. Wonder how she got it there without them noticing. Think she sat on Bob's shoulder? I think she did. It's how I would've done it." Cass stretched out her legs, settling into a more comfortable position on her cape. "You do realize she’s angry with you, right? Want to talk about it?”

Sighing, Tim leaned back against the wall of the abandoned apartment they had decided on. He did not want to talk about it and Cass knew. “What do you want me to tell her? ‘Hey, pro-tip: Dating a cop? Bad idea.’?”

She cocked her head sideways, watching him for a moment longer than he was comfortable with. “You’re worried.”

“Of course I am--”

“--But you’re also jealous.”

“Am not!” Tim sputtered. He wasn’t jealous, god no. Him and Steph, that was a thing of the past. They were friends now, nothing more.

His sister chuckled before pointing to the screen where Giant Bob got ready to leave. “We’re going to talk about this later.”

“No, we’re not.” Tim stood, pulling the cowl over his head and shaking out his cape. His legs felt a little stiff from sitting around all this time, but he was positive fighting Bob would be no problem. Not with Cass by his side. She might poke at things Tim would rather she kept her nose out of, but it definitely was good she was back. He had missed her. It had been lonely these last few months and with the new responsibility of Jay around, it would be a pain to leave Gotham to see any of his other friends. So Cass being back? That was good. Real good. Now if she could just help him get this case straightened out, things would finally start to look up.

 

Later, Tim filed Robert Smith away as a Giant Nuisance while watching Bruce from the corner of his eyes. He was typing away his own report, his motions coming to a stuttering halt more often than usual. Looking deeply uncomfortable, Bruce kept to himself. He soon would notice what was wrong, but Tim had made sure to copy and save the cave’s live feed to his personal hard drive for tonight, just in case he wanted to review the whole thing later.

Rolling her eyes, Cass threw a towel at him, her hands still a little yellow from when she had tagged the Bat on Giant Bob’s Giant Chest. She nodded to Bruce, her eyes widening with an obvious demand. But Tim really enjoyed this too much to help solve the mystery of why the Big Bad Bat had problems typing up his report.

“Something wrong, boss?”

“No.”

“See,” Tim told her. “He’s totally fine. Let him write in peace.”

Bruce sighed loudly in response. World's greatest detective and all. “Tim.”

“Yessir.”

“Did you re-arrange my keyboard?”

Grinning over his shoulder, Tim swiveled in his chair happily. “It’s called revenge, B. Next time, try asking me if I’d want the job first.” Bruce gave him a stare and Tim was sure if it had been possible for The Batman to blush, he would have right now. As it was, he took his little victory with grace. While humming the Imperial March to himself.ruce gave him a stare and Tim was sure if it had been possible for The Batman to blush, he would have right now. As it was, he took his little victory with grace. While humming the Imperial March to himself.

“We got a new lead on our case: A man called Santo Cruz. He was friends with Fletcher although they belonged to rival gangs. Did you know who made that miracle possible?” Tim couldn’t suppress sounding smug; he was a little proud of this. It wasn't every day they could see genuine friendships between two persons that should hate each other's guts on principle. “I did. They’re both participating in the Neon Knights Project. Which means, if I'm right - and I am - then Cruz will know more about Fletcher's death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm a little rusty, but at least I'm writing! Hope y'all liked this chapter and let me know?  
> Thank you for reading <3  
> Talk to me on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you feel like it!


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